


Sail To The Moon

by Crowkidart



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowkidart/pseuds/Crowkidart
Summary: Months after the events from the first game Corvo goes back to the Hound Pits Pub, drinks a little too much and tries to dance.





	1. intro

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is a bit of a slow burn, and things only start happening in chapter 2, but I hope it's not too boring. Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments!  
> Thanks for reading <3

It was 2am in a particularly cold Tuesday when a hooded figure approached the Hound Pits Pub. The pub was closed on Mondays, which meant all the lights were off and windows locked shut except for one.

It was a small window on the highest level of the building, so one could think it wasn’t a big deal to leave it open; it could have been just a slip, someone shut every window of the building except for this unimportant, forgettable one. But the hooded figure on the outside, who jumped graciously from one window to the next like it took no effort at all, couldn’t help but wonder if this one was left unlocked on purpose.

The thing is, no one besides himself was able to reach that window from the outside (or at least not without significant effort, which likely isn’t worth it). Also, the window conveniently led to his old room.

Paying no attention to the piercing cold breeze or anything besides the room he was about to enter, he ran his fingers over the window’s latch for a few seconds before pushing it open.

There was a muffled ‘thud’ when his boots reached the wooden floor inside, and he noticed no dust came up. The floor was clean. Cleaner than it had ever been while he was living there. Except for the cleanliness, everything seemed to be exactly how it used to be: the small old bed with its thin sheets, the table, the lights… _like memories carefully kept intact_ , the hooded figure thought as he approached the bed. All his nights there had been miserable; last time he laid on that bed, he was barely alive. He then softly put his hand on the pillow to feel its familiar rough texture, and noticed a pleasent smell of recently washed sheets. Odd. Still it didn’t look like anyone else had been using the room ever since he left, because...

No, wait. Maybe someone has. _Something else_ was different.

On the floor, right in between the bed and the wall like it was meant to be hidden, there were a number of wooden figures: some of which were just shapeless pieces of wood, but others had recognizable shapes though they were clearly still a work in progress. The hooded figure dropped down to his knees and looked under the bed, where he saw a number of tools and larger pieces of wood. Interesting. Someone had been using that room for carving wood, and tried to be discreet about it.

He shuffled through the pile of unfinished sculptures. They were mostly shapes that resembled boats, whales and other sea creatures, but none of them were very well crafted. Maybe it was a discard pile? No way to know for sure, but the hooded figure had a guess on who made it.

He stood up, brushed the dust off his hands, and felt a sudden chill down his spine - like something behind him was… _shifting_. Reality was shifting. He hesitantly glanced over his shoulder. He was being watched.

"If it isn’t Corvo" a familiar voice said. It supposedly came from behind him, although it sounded like the voice was inside his head.

"You" Corvo sighed and turned back, allowing his body to relax. He fearlessly stared at the Outsider’s pitch black eyes. "What do you want?"

The Outsider made a puzzling expression probably as an attempt to look friendly, but after being so long in the void with no real human interaction he became really bad at smiling.

"I was just wondering the same thing" he said while walking closer to Corvo, hands behind his back as usual. "What do _you_ want?"

Standing side by side, both men (or a man and an occult figure, if we were to be more accurate) looked around the room in silence for a few seconds. The Outsider still expected an answer.

"Just wanted to see how things are going. Revisit memories." Corvo finally said.

"What stopped you from using the front door?" The Outsider kept observing his surroundings.

"My work."

"Afraid of having too many eyes on you as a Royalty member in a common pub, is it? As shy as ever, the Corvo I know."

"I don’t have the _time_ for visiting" Corvo sounded annoyed. "And I’ve already stayed for too long. Should be heading back now." He then immediately headed for the window, while something near the lamp on the desk seemed to grab the Outsider's attention.

"Maybe you haven’t had the chance to see the other rooms yet," the Outsider said while looking at the desk "But they’ve changed. They are now used for rentals, mostly for travellers or people who can’t afford proper hotels. Doesn’t it make you wonder?" he looked at Corvo. "Why did they keep this one room as it was before, I mean?"

"Don’t you have better things to wonder about?" Corvo was already sitting at the window, ready to blink away at any moment. "Like crimes and coups and such?"

The outsider brushed off the question and returned his attention to whatever was on the desk.

"People will go around killing each other as usual. It’s much more interesting to watch your... unpredictable endeavors."

When the Outsider turned his head back to Corvo, the man was already gone. He then looked at the things on the desk again and held them in his hand: two small human-shaped wooden figures, one taller than the other. A man with seemingly long hair, and a little girl in a dress.

From the Void the Outsider could watch whatever he wanted on Earth, but he wasn’t really omniscient. He couldn’t read minds. Right now, he was intrigued. Corvo didn’t seem to have noticed the wooden dolls on the desk, he thought, but must have understood something very secretive. Some hidden message the outsider himself couldn’t quite grasp yet. That’s because when Corvo went away, he left the window wide open.

The Outsider knew Corvo wasn’t that careless.

He then vanished back to the Void.


	2. An Unexpected Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure whether the Outsider can take physical objects from the world to the void or not, but let's assume he can for this fic.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

If someone walked by the Hound Pits Pub between 8pm and 1am, on most days they would find a loud mess of people drinking, singing, and occasionally brawling inside the bright lit barroom. It was a lively place, though its structure was old, and very popular among civilians who wished to have good fun for a cheap price. No one suspected that about nine months before the Pub was shut down and had actually been a stage for murder, tragedy and betrayal.

The boatman Samuel Beechworth was there when all the tragedy happened - he was, in fact, a part of it-, and have never been the kind of person to settle down and build a home at one place; he’d very much rather live on his boat, visiting different towns as the years go by. Yet somehow after the hard times had passed he decided to stay at the Hound Pits -which was bought and refurbished by a nice lady- and serve drinks to loud and messy customers.

What made him stay, no one really knew. But they could find out if they passed by the Pub around 4am on this particular Thursday... or any day, if they paid enough attention.

There was a room in the corner of the highest floor that usually remained well lit when the rest of the building was closed for the day, and there was usually a man sitting by the window of said room, enjoying a nice view of the river while he carved on some small pieces of wood. This particular Thursday, though, was different: the same man could be seen not by the highest window, which had now its lights turned off, but inside the barroom on the ground level, drinking, laughing and serving drinks to a single customer.

 _Samuel Beechworth went to sea to forget a hopeless love. He succeeded,_ The Heart once told Corvo. If there once had been a love strong enough to make him want to leave, maybe it would take a love strong enough to make him want to stay, too.

*

Let’s rewind a bit. It’s now 4:05pm on a Tuesday, the weather is chilly but sunny, and Samuel had just entered the Pub in order to begin his daily tasks. First of all, he should sweep the floor at every room (unless occupied) and make the beds. Then he would come down to greet the cooks and waiters, who should arrive by 5pm, and start preparing the barroom for the opening at 6.

His routine went perfectly normal until he got to the last room on the highest floor, which used to be Corvo’s room during the hard times. That’s the only thing he asked of the new owner of the pub: to let him keep that room as it was, and never rent it, for a whole year.

"Does someone already own it?" she asked. "Are they expected to return within a year?"

"Sort of." Samuel was vague about it, but somehow the owner accepted his request. She really was a nice person and Samuel had known the pub for way longer than she had, after all. He was part of its history, and she did respect that.

Almost ten months later there he was about to open the door for Corvo’s room in order to sweep the floor as usual. When he opened it he was immediately greeted by a cold breeze, which came from the window that was left open wide by someone who definitely wasn’t him.

_It couldn’t be.... … could it?_

The truth is Samuel didn’t really expect Corvo to return. Corvo’s life was now noble and busy as the Royal Protector and father of the Empress, and he surely had no time nor interest to revisit the place where he almost died. Samuel just wasn’t ready to let go of that room yet, and needed some time with it before it goes. But when he saw the open window, he felt like there was actually a tiny ray of hope Corvo would return.

That same night, after the Pub was closed, Samuel remained there for longer than any other employee as usual, but he didn’t come up to Corvo’s room to practice wood carving. Instead he sat on the steps of the stairs on the highest floor, lit a cigarette and did absolutely nothing for quite some time. It wasn’t for insomnia or lack of a better thing to do, as it seemed; he was actually _waiting_. Waiting to feel a cold breeze on the back of his neck, hear shy footsteps coming from the room behind him, and maybe hear a familiar voice, too.

Nothing happened, and he felt really dumb.

The next night (between Wednesday and Thursday) he decided to leave the pub together with the other employees and tried to sleep earlier, but he was restless. From his little shack he instinctively kept glancing at the pub. Part of him insisted on acting like a child and couldn’t get rid of the idea that Corvo had, indeed, come to visit his old room and might do it again. He just couldn’t sleep with those thoughts circling around his head.

So he got up, put on his familiar old coat, and went back to the pub.

The barroom seemed to be empty (like it should), and everything else seemed normal (like they should), so Samuel felt dumb again while he got himself a shot of whatever he found on the counter. He was too old for that. He felt stupid for having grown so attached of his memories with Corvo, above all. That wasn’t his normal self, yet he couldn’t help it.

"Shit" He chuckled and drank another shot.

That’s when he heard it. Footsteps. Coming from upstairs.

Soon the sound of footsteps started to come down the stairs. Samuel tried his best to look like the most indifferent person on the Empire and just stared at his cup without looking back at the stairs, because if he did look back, Corvo ( _assuming_ it’s Corvo) would notice his face was probably as red as a beet.

The footsteps grew closer, and closer, then suddenly came to a halt. After moments of dreadful silence Samuel was the one to break it, still staring at his cup:

"Hi."

"It was you who left the window unlocked, wasn’t it?" the voice behind him asked. It was so shy, almost a whisper.

"Maybe it was."

"On purpose."

"...Not really, no. Sometimes I just forget to lock it. But _you_ left it open on purpose."

The silence that followed made Samuel grin, because it meant he was right.

"I’m glad you came, Corvo" Samuel finally turned his head to face his friend and saw him standing a few steps away, looking healthier and taller than he’d ever seen before.

Corvo smiled.

That was probably the first time Samuel ever saw a true - shy, but warm - smile from Corvo.

*

Samuel has always loved to tell all these fantastic stories of adventures on the sea, old legends and random trivia about places around the Empire. For Corvo those were the best, or least terrible, moments of the day during the time they were on the Loyalist’s mission to restore the Kaldwin’s rightful power. Those moments when he got on the boat and quietly listened to Samuel all the way until their destination, were the moments when he could breathe and distract his mind, if only a little bit, from all the pain he was going through. And Samuel didn’t seem to do it on purpose. He’s a good talker, and Corvo’s a good listener. That’s just who they are.

Now, less than two hours after their awkward reunion at the pub, they had already finished one bottle of cheap wine and were on their way to finishing their second bottle of something foreign that had a complicated name which neither of them could pronounce right now. That was a strange but fun experience for both of them, considering they had never seen each other in a peaceful, happy context before. Corvo was rather quiet as always but he could be quite open if drunk enough, Samuel learned.

"It was like a festival on a ship, a big festival" Samuel was telling yet another story. "but right when we started dancing we saw this huuuuge whale emerging from the water, and I swear it was staring at us."

"I didn’t know you could dance" Corvo sat on a table, as if the chairs were too normal for him.

"Well, I can’t. I tried it when I was younger, I tried some dances that were popular at the time. I was really bad. That’s not the point of the story anyway. Let me tell you, that whale was…"

" _I_ can dance."

"...the biggest thing I’ve ever seen, it was like… no. Corvo, no."

Corvo was grinning. He reached out his hand, inviting.

"No, no, no way."

"Come on" Corvo stood up and chuckled, gently pulling Samuel’s arm towards himself. At that point, Samuel knew he didn’t have an option (or he did have, but at least the alcohol made him care a lot less than he normally would). He gave in, and started laughing as soon as he got up because he stumbled on his own shoes.

Whatever song was playing on the phonograph was not something Corvo could actually dance, but it didn’t matter for the two very drunk men in question. They’d have danced to the sound of their own laughter if that was the only option, that is, if you could call their clumsy movements a dance. Luckily for them there was no one watching, because it would have been a ridiculous sight.

They eventually admitted defeat and sat down again, tired and a tad sleepy, but still laughing.

"I _am_ too old for this. Gonna have the worst headache tomorrow, mark my words." Samuel said, and suddenly widened his eyes as if he’d just remembered something bad. "Oh no. Corvo, I’m so sorry."

"Hm?"

"You, you have so much work to do, but we drank so much and it’s already… By the Outsider’s crooked cock, it’s already 4:45 am!"

"Please don’t say that again." Corvo cringed. "Ever."

"Sorry."

"And it’s alright. I’ll be fine. It’s been a… a real long time… since I had a night without worry or a thousand things to do... you know. I guess you have that effect, Sam…. like an _aura_. Things are just much simpler around you."

"Well I’m… I’m glad you think that."

Samuel felt so incredibly happy and peaceful, hearing such things while sitting right next to Corvo. Or maybe he was just very sleepy, his mind already in a dream-like state. He couldn’t really tell. But it felt good. He started blinking for a bit too long and was about to close his eyes for good when Corvo said:

"I didn’t know you could sculpt on wood, but I guessed it was your doing the moment I saw those sculptures in my room. My old room. Which is not really mine anymore."

"It is" Samuel chuckled. "I was trying to make something for Emily."

"I’m sure she will love it."

"Did she like the ones you took?"

"...the ones I took? That pile on the floor, you mean?"

"No, the ones I left on the desk. You took them with you, didn’t you?"

"I didn’t see anything on the desk."

Samuel furrowed his brows, suddenly feeling sober and deeply embarrassed. He was sure he left his miniatures of Corvo and Emily on the desk, and they weren’t there anymore since the day he found the window open. Then who…?

*

Somewhere in the Void the Outsider examined a little souvenir he brought from the world and now held in his hand. 

He’d surely seen plenty of much greater sculptures during his (after)life, but those two little wooden pieces carried so much… _care_. The Outsider was both fascinated and disgusted by them.

He had a real hard time trying to understand things such as love and care. Stay long enough on the outside, and the inside will become alien. Stay long enough on the outside and you’ll be officially nowhere, accompanied by no one, watching the inside world as some sort of dull theater play for all eternity. Nothing felt real nor close, and on the very rare occasions when something did, it felt annoying. Incomprehensible. And the Outsider hated incomprehensible things. Hes been accumulating knowledge for thousands of years, how come there was something he couldn’t understand?

His fascination towards Corvo had a lot to do with that. Corvo provided him plenty of incomprehensible experiences, which made him feel this strange cocktail of annoyance, hate and curiosity. He wanted to comprehend. He wanted to go back inside.

He materialised next to Samuel’s shack.

The old man was different from usual. He was sleeping under many layers of sheets like a little kid who’s afraid of monsters under the bed, and there was something really sad about it. It was a miserable sight. And he reeked of alcohol.

"You’re embarrassed" The Outsider said, expecting Samuel would listen to him in his dreams "You allowed yourself to love and care for someone, yet you feel shame. Weren't love and care supposed to be good things?"

The Outsider remained in silence for a few seconds as if listening to an inaudible reply, or maybe he was just thinking by himself.

"You did wrong. It’s not your place, you overstepped a boundary. He’s a hero. He’s young and beautiful. And there’s also the judgement, of course. Like the ones who deeply hurt you so many decades ago. But that’s not new. And tonight you had fun. You got to dance and feel his warmth. Wasn’t that what you wanted?"

After a few seconds, the Outsider widened his eyes.

"I see."

What the Outsider found so hard to understand was the human brain’s capacity to be rational and stupid at the same time. A common side effect of love, really. To be absolutely certain of something, yet long for something else.

The Outsider carefully placed the wooden dolls on the pillow close to Samuel’s forehead, resisting the urge to crush them.


	3. Sail to The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First you ask the moon for a dance,  
> and before you come back  
> you kiss her.

It is widely said that time is the best healer, and that’s true to an extent, but not very accurate. The accurate phrase would be “time CAN BE the best healer”. It’s not for granted, it’s surely not easy, and if one’s not careful enough, one misstep or extra pinch of salt will turn time into poison instead.

Luckily Samuel knew the right ways to handle time. He learned it the hard way - like anyone else - but early enough in his life that it became almost second nature by now. He knew that when Time said “let’s go”, the only possible direction was forward.

Right when Corvo left the pub after their little drink-and-dance night, a chill went down Samuel’s spine with the sudden realisation that he had allowed himself to break way too many boundaries due to the recklessness of being drunk. Of course he knew the other man liked him - he wouldn’t have taken his precious time to visit if he didn’t - but not like _that_ . Only the childish, uncontrollable part of Samuel’s brain was capable of thinking something like _that_. Corvo was surely just having some good carefree fun with the only person he came to consider a dear friend during the worst time of his life, while in return said friend felt strange fluttery feelings, and his pants tighter than usual.

It almost felt like a betrayal, Samuel thought, deeply embarrassed. Poor Corvo couldn't have a single person in his life who didn’t betray or disappoint him, whether it was intentional or not. Besides, he hasn’t come back in months, which could only mean he realised Samuel’s strange feelings and wasn't happy about it… right? 

A drop of doubt came into his mind when, a month after Corvo left, the Pub’s owner told him that she had received a fancy yet anonymous letter claimed to be of the owner of the strange room. 

“He offered to pay way more than the room is actually worth, monthly” she said with a genuine smile of excitement. “To compensate for the time we kept it for him, he wrote. But it’s even more than that. Hard to believe, I know. It’s beyond me why would anyone so rich pay for a strange room no one really uses here, but I’m so glad he does. And I’m so glad I trusted you with this.”

It was beyond Samuel to understand why Corvo would do that, too. For a moment he heard the voice in his head tell him Corvo might not be upset after all, but he quickly brushed it off. Corvo was this huge mystery that could never be understood by anyone, and Time urged Samuel to move on. It was no use thinking too much. He should be happy to spend whatever Time he had left close to the places and memories of those he loved. Yes, that was definitely what “forward” meant in this case, and that’s where he was going. 

He wouldn’t spend time in Corvo’s room anymore. The two wooden figures he made and reappeared as mysteriously as they had vanished, were now like a memento he kept near his bed to bring him good memories. He came to a point where his feelings for Corvo, those which months prior he let run free, were now quiet and barely noticeable. 

But it’s also widely said that life is full of surprises, which is always true _and_ accurate, specially when Corvo was involved.

It was a rainy Monday, about two months after Corvo’s visit. The Pub was closed and Samuel just spent time as usual, helping to make the beds of the rented rooms, washing remaining dishes and such. He considered roaming around the city or the river, but luckily on this particular Monday he decided to stay at the Pub and around 6pm heard a knock on the door.

Might be a client who forgot the Pub was closed, he thought while approaching the door. When he opened it he was already mid-sentence

“Sorry, the pub is closed on Mon-”

Something small came running straight at him and strained around his waist with an impact that made him almost lose his balance. He looked down, surprised. It was Emily, under a very wet raincoat that served both as protection from the rain and as a disguise.

“Oh my-” He was at a loss, in a good way. “Lady Emily? What are you- How- _ouch_!”

The girl had her head buried on his stomach and arms getting tighter and tighter around his waist, and she wouldn’t let go for a thing. It actually took Samuel a few seconds to stop struggling, straighten his posture, look up and realise there was someone silently standing a few feet behind her, under the pouring rain.

“Corvo.”

Corvo stepped forward. His shy voice came from under the raincoat hood, only loud enough to be heard with the rain:

“Is this a bad time?”

*

They sat around a rectangular table, Emily on her father’s side and Samuel facing them on the opposite. On the table they had biscuits, cheese, fruits, cups, crayons and napkins. Emily wanted to draw, and no one would drink alcohol in her presence; granted she had seen worse, but it’s not too late to teach her better ways. The barroom was empty except for them, and the only soundtrack was that of Emily humming and raindrops on the windows with the occasional thunder.

“Hmm” Samuel peeked at Emily’s drawing. They were competing to see who could come up with the strangest creature, but she was drawing a human. “Can a person be that strange?”

“Maybe” she answered. No one paid attention to the fact she was painting the person’s eyes black. 

Corvo tried to sketch some kind of octopus, but his very limited drawing skills and imagination made it look more like a wavy asterisk and he gave up. He was by no means in a bad mood - he was alright, but back to his normal, shy, sober self, which could be perceived as a bad mood by those who didn’t know him. He’s got this standard expression that was just blank. Samuel felt glad he gave up on trying to figure him out.

Corvo suddenly stood up and walked in the direction of the counter.

“What’s that?” Samuel asked.

“Juice” Corvo was searching for oranges. Samuel realised everyone’s cup was indeed empty, and felt bad for not paying enough attention before.

“No, please, I’ll do it.” he said, but Corvo dismissed him with a gesture and kept searching behind the counter. Then Samuel felt a poke on his forearm.

“Here” Emily’s urgent tone caught Samuel’s attention before he could even thank Corvo. She spoke in a low volume, like her father wasn’t supposed to hear, and Samuel leaned a bit forward in order to listen better. “I’ve been trying to ask Corvo to bring me here ever since we went to live on the Tower.”

“I didn’t know that.” Samuel’s raspy voice made it harder for him to talk discreetly.

“Shhh! I know he came without me. I saw him when he got home. I asked the guards. He stank!” she censored her mouth with her hand for speaking a little too loud, and lowered her voice again. She sounded upset. “Without me... Why?”

Like father, like daughter: both very observant. Now that Samuel knew Emily had been insisting on visiting since forever, he figured she must have been the reason Corvo ever came in the first place. Overprotective like he is, he must have come secretly to check if the place was safe enough to bring her, free of bad people and bad memories. And Samuel felt a sudden warmth upon realising he decided it was.

“You’re a smart girl. And he cares about you very much. I think he just meant to protect you from this place. Lots of bad things happened here.” and not to let the girl fall into a bad mood, he added: “But let me tell you a secret.”

Emily’s eyes widened with curiosity while she leaned even closer to Samuel.

“When Corvo came,” he whispered in her ear, “he tried to teach me how to dance.”

Emily’s face brightened up in such way that Samuel snorted trying to contain his laughter. She was shocked, like her father just did his craziest stunt yet. Corvo used to be so serious it was easy to forget he even knew what the concept of ‘fun’ was, and Emily was deep down delighted to remember he did. Of course, even far on the counter, Corvo heard everything. He slightly shook his head, seeing with the corner of his eye that Emily stared at him. Kept his straight posture while squeezing the oranges. Did his best not to smile. 

“No way!” Emily’s incredulous voice echoed through the empty room, “Did you really dance? With _him_ ?” she then pointed at Samuel and immediately turned back to him “Corvo doesn’t dance with anyone. A-n-y-o-n-e. Except for me, sometimes. We dance the waltz. Why _you_ though??” 

Samuel shrugged. The way she spat the word ‘you’ made it sound nasty. Moments later Corvo calmly arrived at the table with a jar of orange juice.

“It wasn’t the waltz” he poured the juice on the empty cups. “stop picturing that.”

“Are you kidding me??” Emily couldn’t stop laughing and moving around excitedly on her chair. “I can’t believe I missed it! No way!” she then grabbed Corvo’s sleeve and looked at him with big, hopeful puppy eyes. “Please!”

“...”

“Please!”

Corvo sighed. Emily had been through so much horror in the past, and as a child empress she still had many things to study and practice and do throughout her days. She’d been deprived of a proper childhood, and that’s why it was so hard for Corvo to deny her the little things she got excited about - even when they made him look terrible.

He glanced at Samuel, who glanced back at him, and back at Emily, and back at him again. Corvo reached out his hand. It took Samuel several seconds to understand what was happening, and he crossed his arms.

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Mm-m.”

“You realise at this hour people might come in and out. From the rooms.”

Corvo just stood there silently looking at him, and Emily kept muttering ‘please, please, please…’

Reluctant, Samuel grunted and once more held Corvo’s hand for a dance.

*

“Where do you want to go next, Sam?” Emily asked while drawing something on a napkin. 

Slow waltz music from the phonograph filled the empty barroom, feeling quite melancholic with the sound of the rain. It took him a while, but Samuel had learned the Waltz 101 and was able to keep a very basic but steady rhythm with Corvo. Sometimes he’d step on Corvo’s foot though.

“Mm? Oh- sorry” he muttered to his dance partner who’d just been stepped on again.

“Do you want to sail around the world?”

“Oh no, no.” Samuel looked at her from over Corvo’s right shoulder. In their dance they were constantly and slowly turning, Corvo’s hand softly pressing Samuel’s back to indicate where they should turn now. “I’ve seen all I wanted.”

“Impossible! What about… mmm… the end of the word?”

“Was born there. I believe.”

“Closer” Corvo referred to the space between him and Samuel, which was awkwardly big. Samuel came half an inch closer and hoped it would suffice. Emily went on:

“And what about… the moon?”

“Oh I’ve seen the moon plenty-” Samuel felt a sudden push until his chest almost touched Corvo’s. He held his breath and averted his eyes, but the other men’s expression was impassible like that of a teacher doing his job. “You’re sure you don’t want a drink?” he said in a lower tone.

“I mean” Emily kept scribbling. “Sail to the moon. Brush the cobwebs out of the sky. Why not?”

“Well, I…” he was about to say that was impossible, but decided to embark on her fantasy. “Fair enough. It must be a lonely long journey, though.”

“I’m sure it is. The moon must be very, very lonely. She’d be happy if you visited.” It probably wasn’t on purpose - Emily was smart but too young to be _that_ smart - but Samuel could only notice the parallels she made between the moon and themselves. “You could… ask her for a dance. Now that you know how.”

“Ha” he smiled. “Right.”

“Here” Corvo’s tone was soft and low when he had to use his voice to guide Samuel because sometimes discreet touches weren’t enough. They turned to the left. Corvo held back a chuckle when his foot was stepped on again.

“And what happens when the dance is over?” Samuel asked Emily. “Do I just take my boat and return?”

“Of course not” she said and contemplated her work of art on the napkin. It was a person and a circle dancing in space. “The moon is a nice lady. When the dance is over, you kiss her.”

Corvo and Samuel immediately pushed each other away and turned their backs while trying to pretend nothing happened. Samuel cleared his throat. He could feel the cold sweat forming on his hairline, and had no idea where to look at. Still admiring her artwork, Emily didn’t seem to have noticed what she’d done.

“I think we’re good” Corvo broke the awkward silence after what felt like an eternity. “Come on, Emily. It’s late.”

“What? No, it’s not!”

At that moment someone came down the stairs to grab a cup of water and came to a halt when he noticed the music, the strange people and strange atmosphere at the barroom. 

“Uh, good evening” he said, standing still in front of the stairs.

“Good evening” Samuel regained some composure. Corvo and Emily were already putting on their raincoats behind him. “Water?”

“Y-yes. Excuse me” The man then proceeded to the counter and filled his cup with water from a jar, intending to go back to his room as fast as possible. The awkward atmosphere was crushing.

*

What time was it? Probably already morning, maybe 1 or 2 a.m. The rain had stopped, but it was still too cloudy to see any stars. Most of the city was asleep. 

Corvo walked so quietly not even the rats noticed when he passed by. He went through roofs, alleys, tunnels, until he saw the Pub with all it’s lights turned off. If Samuel was awake, he must be somewhere outside.

From afar, Corvo scanned his surroundings and found him sitting on a rock near his shack, facing the river. His beloved boat Amaranth was just a few feet away, rocking on the small waves. The boatman lit a cigarette, inhaled, and kept the smoke on his lungs for a few seconds before releasing it. 

Corvo couldn’t point out exactly why, but he felt really uncomfortable with the way his day had ended earlier at the Pub, and didn’t want to leave it at that. So after Emily fell asleep he figured he’d go and check if he could still talk to Samuel, try and make things a little better. _But how?_ he wondered. What could he talk about? He was bad at this.

“Are you leaving?”

There was a hole in one of the walls in Corvo’s room, and a young yet ominous voice could be heard. Corvo was about to leave, but then he stared at the void and crossed his arms. The boy inside the void stared back at him. Corvo said nothing, but lifted his chin defiantly. 

“I don’t mean to pry on your small life businesses anymore” The Outsider held his hands behind his back and started pacing around aimlessly. “As intriguing as they are… you’re right. I do have better things to do.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to say goodbye. Unless something happens and my powers are needed again, I will… retreat.”

Corvo shrugged.

“Alright.”

Behind the Outsider’s back, his hands closed into fists. He couldn’t, or refused to understand that what he wanted was... to be wanted. Not in the way the cultists wanted him, adored him, dreamt about him; not for his powers or name. He wished to be cared about like Corvo cared about Samuel enough to go back to the Pub at 2 a.m just to say it’s all right. He wanted, subconsciously, that Corvo would ask him to stay when he said he’d leave. But love and care were still feelings far beyond him. All he knew was resentment. 

He stared at the mirror at Corvo’s room for a few seconds after the man left, and then vanished together with the portal to the Void, not intending to return.  
  
*

Corvo was now approaching Samuel’s rock from behind, walking like a normal person so his steps could be heard. Samuel noticed him when he got near.

“If it isn’t Corvo again” He said over his shoulder, cigarette in his mouth, unimpressed. “Failed to surprise me this time, though. Got to expect the unexpected when it comes to you.”

 _Shut up_ , Corvo thought and walked up the rock. He sat by Samuel’s side and stared at the tiny city lights at the other side of the lake. 

They sat in silence for some time, listening to the sounds of the water and Corvo’s own legs sometimes hitting the rock while swinging back and forth. 

_You know,_ Corvo meant to say, _I wasn’t sure about it the first time I came. The night I checked my old room and left. I just felt there was something odd about the place, but in a good way. So I returned. Tried to find you. Well I did find you. Or rather you found me. And you… you have this thing, you know. This aura that makes me feel at home ever since you gave me rides to missions that could mean my death, but… you were always there, waiting, trusting. Like home. I vaguely remember you telling me you’d help me escape from the Loyalists when they tried to kill me. And I can only imagine how hard it was to drag me to a boat and leave me at the mercy of the… merciless river. You must have been so worried. Don’t blame yourself. You did your best. And what I felt when I found out you were waiting for me, trusting me, even though I could be dead. Felt like… home. No, that’s not what I… I don’t know what I…_

Corvo was silent but restless and even though Samuel could notice it, he said nothing about it. Let Corvo be a weirdo. Respect his secretiveness. He offered him a smoke, but the younger man politely refused.

_I was way too drunk that night to think about anything… huh… but the next day I thought about it. I thought, maybe… no, that’s absurd but… I just couldn’t help myself thinking there was something there. Was there? Is he, I thought, is he interested on me or something? The way you were acting, it wasn’t… it might as well have been the alcohol, but it wasn’t just that, was it? And it felt really strange, because it was strange. I’m sort of a public figure, and there’s the Abbey, and the woman I loved was killed a bit more than a year ago. It feels too early. And wrong. Inherently wrong. I’m not a..._

Corvo shook his head and looked at Samuel, who was now humming some traditional song from far away and throwing tiny rocks at the river. He had already finished his cigarette, and still didn’t seem to mind Corvo at all.

_I had to bring Emily. I promised her. And the happiness on her face... It made the other day worth it. It suddenly felt right. You know? Today felt right, too. And I’m sorry it ended the way it did. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. Pushed you. Got scared, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Hope you’re ok. Hope we can..._

Samuel glanced at Corvo, who had been staring at him for some time now with a face that could very well be of terror, or extreme nervousness to the point of freezing. Samuel couldn’t just ignore it anymore, so he threw one last rock at the water and stared back at Corvo, lifting his eyebrows inquisitively.

“I think-” Corvo’s voice trembled and failed. He cleared his throat. Samuel waited. “I think I owe you a… a kiss...?”

For a moment, Samuel’s only reaction was keeping his eyebrows lifted high.

“Ohh, right” he turned his face back at the river and scratched his chin. It was about time he shaved. “The moon thing. I remember now.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the river because he didn’t expect Corvo to actually kiss him, but suddenly felt a warm breath of air on his ear. It came accompanied by the barely perceptible touch of soft lips on his cheek. 

With eyes open wide, he then slowly and slightly turned his face to Corvo. Like he couldn’t believe what just happened. Corvo apparently couldn’t believe it either, and looked just as astonished.

“Now I’m surprised” Samuel managed to say.

Corvo remained still except for his breathing, which he was trying hard to control but to no avail. Also his hands were sweaty, and trembling, so he tried to hide them under arms crossed.

He’d done a good job on shrinking his own feelings for the past two months, Samuel thought to himself, but they were now knocking - and kicking, and pushing - very hard at the door and would soon burst it if Samuel didn’t open it by his own will first.

He decided now it’s a good time.

Behind the heavy clouds, the moon seemed to shine a little brighter.  


THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading :) I hope you enjoyed the fic! Hope my English wasn't too bad either.  
> "Sail To The Moon (push the cobwebs out of the sky)" is the title of a beautiful song by Radiohead, which inspired this story.  
> I have another Dishonored fic which has been in hiatus for an eternity, but I'll get back to it. It's about what I think happens after DoTO, if you're interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915756
> 
> Thanks again for reading! see ya :}


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